Swordplay
by fluffy-fuzzy-ears
Summary: Arthur orders Merlin to clean a neglected Excalibur, and they both discover an added benefit of their bond with the sword. MERTHUR, SLASH, PRETTY MUCH A PWP (but no Gwen bashing).


DISCLAIMER: BBC owns all rights and privileges to their version of "Merlin", on which this fanfiction is based.

When it had first been pulled from the stone, the sword had been a glimmering, shining beacon of strength. Golden rays of sunlight had bounced off its blade, reflecting the power and – dare Arthur think it – _magic_ held within. The sword had been used in countless battles, conflicts and training sessions. It had never failed him. It had been the best gift to a Knight, nay, a King. Arthur had always felt a strong bond between himself and the sword. Every Knight and swordsman felt a connection to their weapon of choice, but the bond between Arthur and Excalibur… he couldn't explain it. Even if he could, he wouldn't, for fear of being made fun of for the rest of his life. Reigning dominion over the monarchy only got him so far. Yes, Arthur's sword was indeed a powerful and beautiful weapon.

Or, it _was_. Excalibur had seen better days and was long overdue for its first polishing.

Hence why Arthur was currently stalking the grounds of Camelot, mouth pulled into a frown. One would think that, after nearly a decade of Merlin being in Arthur's service, Merlin would just _know_ when he was needed. But no, the stupid, clumsy idiot had to just go wander off whenever he pleased to do so. There were mighty swords of destiny that needed cleaning!

Gaius had profusely apologized for his ward's absence, claiming he had sent the man on another herb-collecting mission. "He won't be gone long, my Lord. Merlin has become quite the expert in finding the right herbs," Gaius had said.

Yes, well, Arthur was a bit impatient today. His dear wife Gwen had given him quite the pile of paperwork to review, all covering various council matters. In other words, it was a pile of extremely dry and lengthy documents that all had non-conclusive endings. Arthur had planned to review the documents while supervising the cleansing of Excalibur. Merlin, as usual, was messing up his plans. Good help was hard to come by.

Of course, Arthur could have temporarily hired a replacement for Merlin, but if he was honest with himself, he didn't really trust anyone else but Merlin for such an important task. Not that he would ever admit that to _anyone_.

Merlin might be an expert herb-locater, but after a decade, Arthur was an expert Merlin-locater. Which meant that, in this case, Arthur was also quite an accomplished finder of herbs. He spotted his dark-haired servant quietly inspecting the base of an oak tree. Using all the stealth he could muster and a smirk on his face, Arthur approached Merlin. Holding his breath, Arthur jabbed a finger in Merlin's side.

Merlin cried out and jumped about two feet, turning around, mouth and eyes wide open in shock. It was priceless and would sustain Arthur's jollies for a week.

"It's not funny! Shut up!" Merlin gathered his things and stomped off back to the castle, in angry disbelief at his King's childish behaviour.

Still chuckling to himself, Arthur caught up. "Your face! Priceless!"

Merlin rolled his eyes and walked a bit faster.

"Oh come on Merlin, take a joke."

They made it back to the castle grounds, Arthur still smiling freely, a stubborn pout on Merlin's face.

Gwen descended the stairs. Her smile turned into a slightly wary grimace as she observed the behaviour between the two. "Oh Arthur, what did you do this time?"

Arthur gasped dramatically and feigned offense. "Me? Why is it my fault?" He shoved Merlin lightly in the shoulder. "Eh Merlin? Why don't you confess, eh?"

Merlin rolled his eyes again. "Oh believe me, I'd love to," he muttered under his breath. He looked up and shared a smile with Gwen. "You're looking radiant as always, M'Lady," he said with a small bow of his head.

Gwen's smile widened. "Thank you Merlin." She turned to Arthur, face growing serious. "Arthur, those documents you're to review-"

Arthur waved her down. "Yes yes I know, I'm getting to them right now. Aren't we, Merlin?"

Gwen frowned. "Arthur, you can't shove this off – the _King_ needs to read them, and I don't think there's been a change in leadership in the last few hours, has there?"

Arthur sighed. "No one can take a joke can they? Honestly, Merlin as King. Camelot would fall to pieces in a minute."

Merlin snorted. "I'm not even going to go there."

"What, you think you could do a better job than I am?"

"Oh, I don't think it, I know it, _Sire." _

Gwen shooed them up the stairs and into the castle, unable to resist a smile as the echoes of their bickering travelled down the hall.

They made it to Arthur's chambers. Merlin cleared that morning's breakfast dishes from Arthur's desk and placed the thick stack of papers in front of the seat.

Arthur sighed, eyeing the papers distastefully. "Battles and training I'm good at. Reading and writing, not so much…" Arthur mumbled.

Merlin quirked an eyebrow at the bold confession. He had always known Arthur did not have an affinity for the finer arts, but had never heard it said aloud. Their eyes met, and Merlin could easily read Arthur's desire to not deal with the papers. He immediately shook his head, eyes widening. "Oh no, you're not dumping this on me, you heard Gwen!"

"Oh shut up Merlin, of course you can't read these documents," he said, sighing again. "No, I've got another job for you."

"Oh, great." Merlin said, shoulders slumping.

"I need you to polish Excalibur. It's been neglected." Arthur unsheathed the sword and handed it to Merlin.

A look of relief washed over Merlin's face. "Right, yeah I can do that," he said, smiling. He gingerly took the sword and set about getting what he needed to make it shine again. The job was long overdue, there was no arguing that. There had been no time before do attend the sword, and as the King had said, its care had been lacking.

Merlin allowed himself a moment to recall the events that created the sword. Kilgarrah forging the sword from his breath, Merlin thrusting it into the stone, and Arthur reclaiming it along with his destiny, and everything that had happened in between. And Arthur knew only bits and pieces of the tale. Someday, if he was lucky, Merlin would reveal Excalibur's true parentage to its owner. But for right now, the bonds between sword and wielder, and between sword and sorcerer, would have to remain separate.

Merlin slowly began the polishing process, picking up a damp rag and wiping off excess dirt and grime.

Arthur was already terribly bored, and he hadn't even read through the first document. His face was heavily resting in his left hand, while his right limply held up the paper. It was a dreadfully dull treaty on a new crop the farmers were eager to experiment with. Arthur knew he should care more about farming and food production, but honestly, as long as the rounds were made and his people were nourished, then he didn't care which types of food were cultured. The new crop was –

Arthur stopped reading. He felt… strange all of a sudden. Like it was suddenly much too hot in his room. He blinked and looked up and saw Merlin cleaning Excalibur.

Arthur felt he couldn't look away. It was just his servant polishing a sword, something he had done many times before. But there was something… more to it than that. Merlin was slightly hunched over the long sword, his right hand moving slowly up and down the blade, left hand loosely holding the hilt. His face though, was more relaxed than Arthur had ever seen it. Like cleaning Excalibur brought Merlin intense inner peace. Suddenly the documents were far, far from Arthur's mind and all he wanted to do, all he _could_ do was watch his servant clean his sword.

The relaxation oozing from Merlin was contagious. Soon Arthur felt his eyelids drooping, felt his muscles slowing down. And the heat that his body was suddenly flushed with helped him practically melt in his chair. The paper slipped from his fingers, softly landing on the desk top. Everything just slowed down.

Merlin, unaware of the changed atmosphere, gently flipped the sword over to clean the other side. Arthur slipped into a further relaxed state, heart beat slowing, breath deepening.

The sword was clean of surface dirt and was now ready to be polished. Merlin grabbed the sword polish, prepped the rag and started near the base.

And then Arthur's mood went from sinfully relaxed to _very _aroused. A slow, burning pleasure spread in his gut. It was impossible, and _wrong_ and Arthur didn't want to think about it – but it felt like something – _someone?_ – was rubbing him in the same way Merlin was rubbing the blade. Arthur felt his face heat up. He was so relaxed that he didn't want to move. He then realized that Merlin had yet to polish both sides of the entire blade, and things would only get _more_ inappropriate.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Er – Merlin," he said. His voice was too husky and he cleared his throat again. He rose up slightly in his chair.

Merlin turned so that he was facing Arthur fully. "Yes?" he said.

"You can – can you do that another time?" Arthur asked, trying to save the situation from any awkwardness and failing miserably.

Merlin looked confused. "But I've just barely started," he said. He didn't want to stop now – polishing Excalibur was for some reason extremely relaxing. "And besides you've barely read anything." He looked back down to the blade and moved his hand to start polishing. He heard Arthur clear his throat again and looked up, only to find his King was decidedly flushed.

"Sire?"

Arthur's eyes shifted around, restless. How the hell could he explain to his servant that, in polishing his sword, he was sexually arousing Arthur? Hell even Gwen couldn't get him aroused this powerfully in such a short time. It had to be -

"Sorcery," Arthur choked out. "I – I think the sword is enchanted."

Merlin's heart skipped a beat. Arthur couldn't… he couldn't know about the swords true past, could he? Merlin would have to feign ignorance. "Why do you say that?" Without noticing it, Merlin started to polish again. And again, Arthur's face reddened and he squirmed in his seat.

"I – every time you…I…" Arthur gesticulated with his hands what he meant.

It took a moment for Merlin to understand. "Oh! Oh… erm," Merlin looked down at the sword, then back up at Arthur, then to his hand. He clenched the rag in his hand. Well, this was awkward. "Well, I shouldn't leave a job half finished, should I?" Merlin said, his voice shaking slightly. He felt his face heat up and couldn't believe he'd actually said such a thing.

Merlin tried not to laugh at the priceless expression on Arthur's face. It was equal parts disbelief and arousal.

"Unbelievable," Arthur muttered. And then, after a moment of hesitation, "No word of this to _anyone_, Merlin," he ordered.

Merlin nodded. He exhaled shakily and, as casually as he could, went back to his work. A part of him was still in disbelief that this was happening at all. The much larger part was actually wondering if Arthur was right, and the sword was enchanted. Who would gain from having the owner of a sword be aroused when it was polished? It seemed a pretty harmless enchantment, if it was one. And who would have put it there? Granted, Merlin hadn't actually polished Excalibur before (as Arthur said, it had been neglected. Severely), so he didn't know when the sword would have been enchanted. Maybe it was a product of the strong bond between Arthur and Excalibur?

And then Merlin realized that Arthur had quite literally placed his pleasure in Merlin's hands. He swallowed, suddenly nervous. He was about to… and Arthur was the _King_. What if…?

"Merlin, get on with it," Arthur muttered.

Merlin looked up. Arthur's head was buried in his hands, fingers roughly threaded through his hair. He peered through his wrists, eyes meeting with Merlin's, a look of desperation leaking through.

Merlin bit his lip and then, without warning, slid the polishing rag all the way from the sword's base to the tip.

Arthur cried out and slumped forward onto the desk, fingers clenching his hair. He rutted against the desk, legs spreading open. "God, yes, do that again,"

Merlin complied, stroking the entire length of the sword in one go. His own breathing was coming in shorter intervals, his body felt warm and tingly, a shallow pleasure starting to build. Merlin started polishing just the tip of the sword, being extremely careful of the blade's sharpness. He heard Arthur hastily untie his breaches and push them down to his knees. And then the King was touching himself, _in front of Merlin,_ while Merlin was somehow pleasuring the King using _Excalibur_.

"Oh God it's like… t-two hands," Arthur said in a gasp, voice hitching with pleasure.

Merlin grew bolder with each reaction Arthur made. A crazy thought entered his mind. It would be risky… Merlin's breath shortened and, boldly, he lowered his head to the sword and carefully slid his tongue along the blade. He grimaced at the bad taste of the polish.

Arthur went rigid. Merlin heard his breath coming out in sharp gasps.

"Fuck, Merlin," Arthur breathed out. He raised his head to look up at his servant, and the sight of his pink tongue still on the blade nearly finished the job. He was _so close_. If Merlin did that again, he would –

Merlin smirked and licked the tip of the blade. Arthur came with a shout, shaking and rutting against the desk, sending papers falling to the floor.

Still breathing hard, Arthur sat up, pushing his hair back from his sweaty temple. He fixed his breaches, looking anywhere but at Merlin.

It was Merlin's turn to squirm with discomfort. He was achingly hard, straining against his own pants. He wasn't sure what was to happen now. Maybe if Arthur stroked the sword it would – no, as soon as the thought came Merlin knew it would not reciprocate.

"Erm, right, I need to – I'm, er," Merlin stuttered, swallowing past a dry throat.

"Come here," Arthur said, his voice still sounding breathless.

Merlin caught himself from jumping up from his seat in haste. He wasn't sure the King knew just what he was offering to do. "Arthur, I don't think-"

Arthur's face grew redder, but his eyes were resolutely stubborn. "I said come here."

Merlin bit his lip and hesitated for all of one second. They could deal with the consequences later. Right now all Merlin wanted was to relieve the almost painful erection straining his pants, and if Arthur, _his King_, was willing to make that happen, Merlin wasn't going to deny him. It wasn't going to take Merlin long to get off – just the look of Arthur, flushed and dazed in post-coital bliss, was enough to make Merlin want to moan.

With weak legs Merlin rose from his chair and closed the gap between him and Arthur. Merlin came round the desk to Arthur, who remained sitting, and put both hands on the desk top for balance. Arthur hadn't even started and Merlin was already breathing hard and biting his lip in anticipation.

Merlin closed his eyes, suddenly embarrassed. Arthur had never seen this part of him before, hadn't even seen him without a shirt on – _what were they doing? _

"Arthur, wait – aaaaaaaugh," Merlin's half-hearted objection died in a low moan. Arthur had pushed Merlin's pants down just enough to release his erection. He stroked him long and hard, just as Merlin had done with the polishing rag on Excalibur. Merlin's knees weakened and he bent forward slightly, leaning more onto the desk, more into Arthur.

Merlin couldn't recall the last time he had had someone touch him like this, or even the last time he had touched himself in this manner. It had been far too long, and now _Arthur_ was the one doing it. Merlin had fantasized about this happening, yes, and okay maybe he had a bit of a servant/master kink, but really what servant didn't? Merlin rarely actually considered himself the King's servant, but in those blessed and rare moments of privacy, Merlin had not stopped his mind from wandering.

Merlin's mind went blank, overridden by the pleasure he was feeling and he moaned again. He pitched forward, his head landing on Arthur's shoulder.

"Good?" Arthur said, panting slightly.

Merlin groaned, nodding into Arthur's shoulder. He angled his head to the side, breathing hotly in Arthur's flushed neck. Arthur shuddered, the sensation sending tingles down his spine. His neck was suddenly very sensitive.

The reaction was not lost on Merlin. Merlin swallowed and, like with the sword, boldly darted his tongue out to lick Arthur's neck. Arthur returned the gesture by increasing the pace on Merlin's cock.

"Ah – not – not going to l-last," Merlin choked out. He thrust his hips into Arthur's hand, wanting, _needing_ more. He could feel his toes curling and his gut tensing. Merlin breathed open mouth kisses onto Arthur's neck, licking the flushed skin. His teeth landed on Arthur's ear lobe and he bit down, _hard_, as his orgasm shot through him. Distantly he heard Arthur cry out in what was probably pain.

"God Merlin, that hurt!" Arthur moved his head away, pulling Merlin along with him until he unlatched his teeth.

Merlin was collapsed against Arthur, breathing heavily and trembling slightly. Oh yes, it had definitely been much too long since his last orgasm. He was too embarrassed to look, but he knew he had made quite a mess on Arthur.

"S-sorry," Merlin said, voice rough. "Oh… God… thank you."

"Get the cloth. And the water."

Merlin nodded against his neck. He slowly got up, fixed his pants and shakily retrieved the wash cloth and the pitcher of water.

"Do you want me to…?" Merlin asked, holding the cloth and pitcher slightly awkwardly. He hated the intensely uncomfortable atmosphere that had descended.

Arthur's mouth tightened and he nodded. "Seems appropriate," he said.

There was a moment of silence and then Merlin let out a slightly hysterical giggle.

"A-appropriate? I don't think that word has meaning anymore," he said. He bent down in front of Arthur, another bubble of laughter escaping.

Arthur snorted. "No, I suppose not."

Merlin smiled, immensely glad the tension had been broken so easily.

Merlin had barely finished cleaning up the evidence of their "activities" before there was a knock at the door. Arthur made a distressed sound. Merlin hastily stood up, adjusted his clothing, and made it look as if he had been pouring Arthur a glass of water. Luckily the colour on both their faces had returned back to normal. Mostly.

"It's me," Gwen said as she entered.

They both slightly relaxed. And then felt extremely guilty_ oh god what had they just done-_

Gwen's eyes darted in between them and then landed on the pile of papers on the desk. She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Arthur, you haven't read a thing have you?"

Arthur cleared his throat. "Er, no, well I got through one page, but I've been-"

"Distracted?" Gwen said happily, smiling at Merlin.

Merlin blushed and looked away, guilt at what he'd just done with Gwen's _husband_ churning in his stomach.

Gwen spotted Excalibur and made her way to it, looking like she wanted to pick it up.

Arthur and Merlin tensed, Arthur reddening in the face. "Gwen, don't pick it up!"

Gwen laughed lightly and did so anyways. "Relax Arthur, I've handled plenty of blades before. Remember, I was a black smith once? I won't get hurt."

Merlin met Arthur's eyes and knew that's not what Arthur was worried about.

"I see Merlin's been distracted too, it only looks half polished." She narrowed her eyes at the blade, inspecting it. "Though it does look much better than before…"

And before either of them could do anything to stop her, Gwen picked up the polishing rag and rubbed it on the blade.

Merlin looked at Arthur, both of them battling panic and curiousity, anxious to see if the enchantment would activate for Gwen.

Apparently it did not.

Gwen was polishing the sword, but Arthur didn't feel anything, if only a small amount of stress at watching the woman he loved handling such a sharp weapon. He was almost disappointed. He looked at Merlin, who shrugged, appearing confused. If he were honest with himself, Merlin knew that the sword wouldn't affect Arthur and Merlin the same as everyone else. To those not involved in its creation, in its destiny, it was just a regular blade. Just a piece of metal.

"My Lady, here, I can take over," Merlin said, hastily moving to Gwen. He held his hand out for the polishing cloth.

Gwen smiled and handed him the blade. "Such a nice sword should not have gone so long without cleaning, Merlin."

"I know, I kept telling him, but you know how he is," Arthur said. "We won't let that happen again, will we Merlin?"

Merlin blushed fiercely. "Er, n-no, Sire, I'll polish it every week."

Arthur's face mirrored Merlin's. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Good," he said, fighting to control his voice.

Gwen raised an eyebrow, wondering why the two were acting so strangely. She shrugged it off as some inside joke. "Enough about Merlin, it's _you_ we have to worry about, my dear." Gwen moved to the desk and put her arm around Arthur's shoulders. "I'm going to have to stay until you're finished them, aren't I?"

Arthur groaned in despair.

Later that week, Arthur and Merlin discovered that there was indeed a possibility for reciprocity. Arthur decided it was his turn to polish Excalibur, and the reaction Merlin had to it was even stronger than how Arthur had reacted. Merlin had told Arthur this the next day; Arthur had been polishing Excalibur at bedtime, when Merlin was tucked into his own bed in Gaius's chambers.


End file.
